A Systematic Failure
by captainamerica-owl
Summary: It's the year 2213 and the lives of the people is predetermined at birth using a technological approach. The people are separated into two groups; those who are beneficial and those who are not. At the age of 18, a person is again tested to ascertain their place in society. When the day comes that one's classification does not line up, it's up to Detective Inoue to investigate.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer****: I do not own ****_Bleach_.**

By the time the mechanism clicked into place, Orihime was already halfway awake. The room made a show of lighting up around her, a disembodied voice of a friendly child chirping the current status of her health, a happy compliment on her hardiness, and a summary of any important news since she'd last heard it. The floor tiles heated up before her feet even touched them, the sound of breakfast being started from the kitchen and the individual features in the bathroom being adjusted to her preference. She waved away the hologram circling her, a tiny figure with sharp wings the color of gold.

It continued to recite the usual even as she entered the bathroom to alleviate herself.

"October sixteenth, twenty-two thousand and thirteen. Zero seven hundred and two hours. Current temperature is eighteen degrees Celsius; you are advised to dress warmly. There is a seventy-eight percent chance of rain today; you are advised to carry an umbrella. Crime rate is at a record low at—"

She dropped her clothes in the hamper by the door to be cleaned, pushing her hair out of her face to step under the stream of water. The assortment of her preferred soaps were already set in the panel in the wall, the screen switched to a news channel as she lathered her skin clean. Nothing out of the ordinary aside from a meeting between the city council members and, later, the press. The timer chimed and the water switched off. She wrung out her hair and wrapped herself in a towel and moved back into the kitchen.

"Breakfast?" the hologram offered, hovering by the table.

"The regular," she sighed, and sat herself down in the nearest chair to comb out her hair with the set waiting before her. It was nearly no time at all before a cup of hot coffee was placed before her and the smell of eggs and toast filled the air. The hologram poured cream and stirred for her and then circled back to retrieve her food. Once she finished picking the tangles out, it took away the assortment of combs and brushes and replaced it with her food.

"Would you like to watch the news?" it asked as she began to eat. "Or perhaps something more entertaining? There is a pilot being aired today; a satirical romance."

"News is fine," she said, and the hologram flickered and expanded into a screen itself. The same information as before, and then the announcement of the newest additions into the workforce, what contributions will be made to society. The program was interrupted by an incoming call, a yellow light at the bottom corner of the screen. "Expand," she ordered, wiping her mouth and setting aside her empty plate. "Voice only."

She stood just as the voice of her coworker spoke. "I need you to come in early today," he said, the screen tracking the volume of his voice. "We're short on hand here."

"Of course! I had no plans for today anyway." She stopped in front of the full length mirror in her room, twisting up her hair with a few plain pins and skimming her hands over the reflective glass. It shimmered and then a selection of outfits appeared for her to choose from. She scanned through the professional wear. "Is there anything going on today?"

"It's too soon to tell. But I wouldn't rule it out." He paused for a second, and she imagined him checking through his schedule brusquely. "I'll be heading into a meeting shortly. The office is open. They should be working on their reports right about now."

"Right." She chose a white button up, a black pencil skirt with a matching blazer, and simple kitten heels. She undid and then pinned her hair back up in a different, neater manner. "Good luck."

A beep announced the call had ended.

The hologram flickered back to normal and went about cleaning after her. "The umbrella is by the door. Perhaps an overcoat for the cool weather?"

She held out her arms wordlessly as it pulled on the coat for her, fastening the buttons at the front. She collected her bag, and then the umbrella the hologram offered.

"Have a nice day," it chimed just as she stepped out. "Reminder! Don't forget to eat a snack in three hours! Today might be busy."

The door shut and she rifled through her bag to make sure the nutrient bar was still there, and then continued down the hall into the elevator.

~~...~~X~~...~~

The office consisted of six desks, two of which were placed at the opposite end of the room from the door, where the higher ranking were stationed. Two whole walls were made singularly of glass, that being the entrance and the opposite wall facing the city. The door was mostly indiscernible except for the thin line in the middle marking where it would slide apart. The floor of the hallway before stepping into the office was purely tile, and the rest was commercial blue carpet.

Of the six desks, only two were occupied.

On the right, a tall woman with long black hair and green eyes. She was in her mid twenties, of modest beauty and refined manners. She wore a well fitted suit, a pencil skirt that only fell mid-thigh, and a very practical pair of flats. Her desk was decorated sparsely, a framed photo of herself and her father and a small teddy bear holding a heart with the word, "Love," stitched into it in white. She paused in her task of organizing her files to give Orihime a polite nod in greeting.

On the left, a young man with silver hair and wide turquoise eyes. He was several years younger than her, perhaps in his mid-teens; she had at one time believed him to be an intern, when in reality he had worked here well before she had even considered this career. He wore a dark gray vest and matching slacks, a white dress shirt with the sleeves folded back to his elbows, and black oxford dress shoes. He waved a hand in her general direction, the fingers of his other hand swiping across the screen purposefully.

She peeled off her overcoat and draped it over the back of her chair, plopping herself down and entering her identification code to access her files. The panel cleared of the company icon and was replaced with her personal information. Before she could move to do anything, a video clip popped up.

"The latest graduates look promising," the woman said from her desk, tapping away at the keyboard. The feed had been sent by her.

The clip showed the list of results from the most recent aptitude test, aired directly from the city council network. The top results were separated from the rest of the list and swooped down just as the neutral blue backdrop was switched to a view of the graduates the results belonged to. Ten of them, standing shoulder to shoulder on a stage in the middle of a stadium, still wearing their graduation gowns. The highest ranking student had a score just shy of perfect, and she followed the tiny rectangle marking the score with her eyes until it stopped just beneath the graduate at the left end. The view stayed distant enough she could only make out the boy's height and impassive posture, and as the reporter began to commend the boy specifically for his success, the camera switched to a close-up of him.

"A delinquent," the young man scoffed from his desk, maintaining the video clip even as he continued his task.

"Hitsugaya-kun," Orihime reprimanded gently, leaning forward to get a better look at the graduate. She couldn't argue against Hitsugaya's opinion; the boy certainly did look like a troublemaker.

From underneath the graduation cap, spiky wisps of fiery orange hair peeked out to touch his ears and neck. He had sharp, albeit attractive features, marred only by the deep scowl on his face. His eyes were narrowed in an unfriendly manner, irises a rich chocolate color, and his lips were pulled into a slight frown. He squinted against the bright lights of the stadium, and when he seemed to notice he was the focus on screen, he folded his arms defensively.

"Perhaps you are right," the woman said, turning back to her own screen and typing up a few things. "I will run a background check on him."

"Nemu-san, please. There's no need for that." Orihime reached up a finger to press against the screen; the volume selection appeared under her touch and she circled her finger to increase the sound.

"_Kurosaki Ichigo is _the _highest scoring graduate we've had in a _long _time,_" the reporter said, and his information scrolled out beneath his face. "_Barely eighteen years old and he has a bright future ahead of him!_"

"Hardly surprising," Nemu stated, overlapping the video Orihime was still watching with an official document containing all of Kurosaki Ichigo's information, starting from birth to present time. "He was classified as _highly _beneficial, he is the son of a successful doctor, and his two younger sisters are very much involved in both the community and their school. He received the highest marks in mathematics and even seemed to have an advanced understanding of the medical field—due to his father's influence, I believe. He is particularly physically talented and was even recruited multiple times into many of the sports offered at the academy he attended."

"He couldn't have participated in all of them at the same time," Hitsugaya spoke up, swiveling in his chair to face her.

"He did not. He turned them all down every time."

Both Orihime and Hitsugaya straightened. "_Why_?"

Nemu shrugged, turning indifferent eyes to the both of them. "He never explained himself."

Hitsugaya clicked his tongue, but Orihime waved her hands. "It's his own choice," she rebuked, smiling lightly. "It doesn't change the fact that he's an exemplary and respectable individual."

Nemu scrolled down the list and then returned back to the top, sliding her fingers across one particular file. An option to enter an access code appeared before Orihime; she reared back. "To access this information, I need to be an Official." She met Orihime's eyes.

"I—no, that's wrong." Orihime stood from her chair and lifted her chin. "We've divulged enough of this boy's life. We have no right—"

"Why would they feel the need to protect this bit of information?" Hitsugaya shot back, arms crossed and chair pushed back from his desk. On his screen, the same file was opened and waiting. He had stopped working.

Hitsugaya never stopped working.

"To keep people from prying," Orihime said, arms akimbo.

"Into _what _exactly? If this kid's so perfect, why the need to hide anything?"

She faltered. It was a good question, and naturally she felt an immense amount of curiosity. The need to pick apart and analyze the information was nearly overwhelming. And, as any good detective, she wished to solve this puzzle.

With a sigh, she wiped her hands clean on her skirt and leaned down to enter her code. "Just a peek," she told them, holding their eyes each in turn. When they nodded, she verified and sat back to wait for the file to unlock.

She jumped when a chime announced an oncoming call at the corner of the screen.

"Detective Ishida," Nemu stated. "He mentioned he would check in at some point."

Hitsugaya immediately turned back to his work, as if he had not paused for a second.

"Accept call," Orihime said, minimizing each window connected to Kurosaki Ichigo.

It was through video, and she had no power to deny the camera output. She only hoped she did not look as disheveled as she felt.

On the other side of the screen, Ishida Uryu was sitting in a chair in what she assumed to be the board room. His glasses gleamed back, perched on his aquiline nose, and his cold blue eyes regarded her for a moment. To her shaky greeting, he only offered a short nod. "The meeting just ended. There are no specific changes you need to be aware of, but there will be new officers joining our team soon enough and you may need to be prepared for that."

Behind him, people were already filing out of the room. She imagined he was speaking to her through his own personal communicator. "How soon is soon?" she asked, fidgeting with the end of her skirt.

"Tomorrow."

"Ah," she laughed lightly, "that's much too soon!"

"If _our _team specifically gets more officers, you will certainly be the one to take them. My own squad is already full." He seemed to take hold of the communicator and stand from his seat, preparing to leave.

"Understood," she said, composing herself. "I will be prepared."

"Good." And then the call ended.

"Never wastes a second," Hitsugaya commented idly. "How are those files coming along?"

Orihime exited out of the call screen and pulled up the files from before. With another, shakier laugh, she said, "Denied access."

~~...~~X~~...~~

**A.N.****: I've always dreamed of writing Orihime as a detective. **

**This story will deal with sensitive subjects such as violence, gore, language, assault of different forms, and overall mature content because of the genre. I wanted to warn those of you who are bothered in any way by any of these subjects; I want you to feel comfortable reading this story and also have fun.**

**Orihime is about twenty-one in this story and Ichigo is eighteen. **

**Any questions, concerns, and whatnot? Feel free to ask. This may or may not be slow to update; I want to make a good, quality fic for you guys and I won't be tolerating any hurried work on my part. Thank you for reading. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer****: I do not own ****_Bleach_.**

As soon as he had the chance, Ichigo shrugged out of the gaudy blue graduation gown and folded it over his arm, tucking the cap securely against him. The others had gathered together to relay their nervousness over the night and the events that had passed, but he had wandered away from them to avoid conversation in general. Already exhaustion was hanging over his head and he wanted nothing more than to throw himself into bed and knock out a few hours.

An elbow jabbed him in his side and whatever hope he had had in escaping was crushed. He stepped away from the pressure and turned to acknowledge the person responsible. The deepest sense of annoyance pressed in at the back of his mind but he quelled it before it could expand into anything unnecessarily violent. "What do you want, Rukia?" he asked, with more bite than was probably deserved.

"Where do you think you're headed?" Rukia demanded, with no less spite. She was a tiny thing, with excessively large eyes a color just off violet. Her short black hair had flower pins holding back her bangs, and her gown had been undone to show the fancy yellow dress she wore underneath.

It hurt his eyes. "Out—away from here," he said, gesturing dismissively toward the rest. "Gonna go wait for my ride." He turned to go but she caught him by the sleeve of his shirt and held fast. "_What?_"

"What are you planning to do now?" she asked, folding her arms. She had been holding something against him since the announcement of the results a few weeks ago. Being second best hadn't sat with her too well, he supposed. She had a particular interest in his future, more specifically his career choice.

Or, more like, an odd need to nag him over his indifference regarding any of it.

"_I _was thinking of going into business," she said when he didn't answer. "Maybe aim for CEO or something."

"Your brother _owns _a business," Ichigo snapped, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "You don't need to do anything but what he says and the job is yours."

He could tell she refrained from stomping the heel of her shoe into the toe of his. "Yeah, well, it's not like I'm not interested in it anyway. And what about you?" She tilted her head in a way that made it almost look as if she were staring her nose down at him despite being more than a head or two shorter. "Going to take up the family trade and become a doctor like your father?"

He kicked at the ground once, and then turned to continue down the hallway to the exits. "I guess so," he said, with no more conviction than usual. "That's what everyone expects anyway."

"Ichigo," she said, retracting her hand when he spun to face her. He made no other sudden movements and she continued, eyes tight, "You know I didn't mean it the wrong way. You're my friend and I just want to know you're making the right choice."

"Yeah. I know." He took a step away. "I need to go. I wanna get some rest before the assessments tomorrow."

"Think on it," she said, clutching her cap to herself. "Your father already made a name for himself. It'll be easy for you this way."

"Yeah. I know." Without another word, he ambled down the hallway and began climbing the wide stairway to more level ground. He could feel her staring after him until she couldn't see him any longer, but did not bother looking back.

The conversation had worn him out. That particular topic usually did.

The hallway closer to the exit was littered with people, graduates with their family and friends. He ducked his head and only nodded in greeting to those he knew when they called out to him. He hurried pushing open one of the two doors of the exit, slipping out before anyone could talk him into taking any photos with them. As soon as he stepped outside, he fell into the obscurity of tight crowds and similarity; at least ten other people were wearing the same outfit as him, and, outside of the small circle of top scoring students, his hair color did not stand out here.

There was a guy a few feet away with half his hair dyed a lime green. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

He patted his pockets for his communicator, and then sought out his father's name.

~~...~~X~~...~~

"Bummed you never got laid in high school?"

"I will reprogram you," Ichigo warned, but didn't make a single move from his bed. His arms were crossed behind his head, his attention entirely turned to the ceiling but eyes not entirely seeing it. He had switched his suit out for a more comfortable pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

The hologram, a small lion figure, drew back and then swooped down to stand on his chest. "You're not denying it," it said petulantly.

He waved it off and rolled onto his side. "I'm not in the mood. Go away."

"Well, _get _in the mood," it whined, patting its paws on his back. "You're really making me depressed right now, you know."

He shut his eyes. "I thought you were supposed to be everything _I _wanted you to be. I don't remember adding _annoying _onto that list when I got you."

"What can I say? I've got _personality_."

He flopped onto his back, and it barely avoided being crushed underneath him. "Search possible career options."

"Oh, that's it," it muttered, all the while still floating up and expanding into a screen. Listings appeared immediately, lines and lines too lengthy for him to follow. "Since a lot of kids graduated, lots of options have appeared. These aren't even half."

"Narrow it down to my qualifications."

"Getting a little arrogant there, aren't we?" The list quickly shortened to something more manageable. "Let me guess, you want me to remove anything relating to the medical field? You're an open book, kid."

"Keep the results as they are. Find what matches my aptitude best." He rubbed his forehead. "Pull up the news or something."

"Unconnected to your graduation? That's gonna be a little difficult." Fleeting images appeared in a screen right beside the listings; the council meeting, some gossip over celebrities, the crime rate, improvements in the economy. "How 'bout this? This little beauty was promoted to a Detective just a week and a half ago and is _already _solving some pretty hefty cases. Exciting, right?"

A free standing hologram was projected, spinning around slowly in its place. A woman of average height with a voluptuous figure, long auburn hair and wide brown eyes. Beside her, basic information was displayed.

"Detective Inoue Orihime, twenty-one years old. Graduated with the highest marks of her class, like you, just a few years ago. Focused her studies on criminal justice and whatnot and was pretty much accepted right on the spot. She was pulled under the wing of one of the more renowned detectives they've got, worked as a subordinate for some time, gained her own underlings in his sector, and the rest is history." There was a rumble, almost like a purr. "Beautiful _and _super talented. I'm in love."

"You're not capable," Ichigo said, sitting up. The hologram of Detective Inoue followed, and then switched to more news relating to her.

"She solved a long standing case regarding the murder of that one little girl. You know the one. I'm willing to bet this new decrease in crime is because of her. Must be scaring all the crooks away."

"That's a little optimistic." He raised his hand and stopped one particular video from flitting away like the rest. "Play this one."

An interview. She was sitting in a chair beside another detective, some guy with glasses and sleek black hair. They were questioning her about a recent case, and while the male detective kept reasserting that much of the things they were asking was classified information, Inoue took it in stride, armed with a kind smile, and worked her way around their questions expertly. She answered and yet not answered them. And when asked why she decided on this particular line of work, when, with her scores and her _wonderful looks_, she could have chosen anything else, she said, "Because I wanted to."

And it clicked immediately.

"I'm gonna be a Detective," Ichigo said.

The images snapped back onto the projected screen and then was overcome by the second window, the listings. "Is this because you want me to fall in love with you, too?"

"How compatible am I for it?" he asked, ignoring the question.

"Surprisingly, very," it said, skimmed down the list and singled out a few options. "Your superior athleticism and advanced scores on mathematics is particularly attractive to this career. Toss in observational skills, deductive reasoning, and some common sense and you fit the bill perfectly."

"What's the starting point?"

"You mean, where did _Detective Inoue _start? The official starting point is an Enforcer. Basically an officer three spots beneath Detective. You climb up to a regular Agent, and then Inspector, and then you hit the mark. All while remaining within a specific sector; a team, if you will. The teams are sometimes separated into squads to facilitate the process of solving cases. You climb up the ladder while newcomers are added onto your team. Once a Detective, you might get your own little squad. If you manage to get a notch higher and become a _Head _Detective, you get a whole new sector." It paused and then directed him to an informational page on the topic. "_Detective Inoue, _however, was a special case. Because she focused her studies in this direction earlier on, and scored so high on them to follow, she started as an Agent and was personally trained to become a Detective. It took almost no time at all for her to climb up the ranks."

"So an Enforcer, then," Ichigo murmured, squinting at the screen. "Alright. Brief me on that."

"Whoa, hold on there." The hologram shrunk back to a little lion. "The assessments are tomorrow. There's a slim chance you'll even be considered—"

"You said I was 'very' compatible with this career choice," he shot back. "If I can show I've got _some _idea about it, it'll show up as an option at the end and I can go from there."

"That means you're gonna have to somehow outweigh your knowledge of medicine to balance out, otherwise it's not gonna show at all. You sure you can outdo something you've been taught _since birth_?"

Ichigo stretched, rolled his neck. "I can sure as hell try."

"This is why you never got laid during high school. Alright, let's get this going."

~~...~~X~~...~~

**A.N.****: Kon holds a special place in my heart.**

**Ichigo is dealing with the pressures of choosing a career for life. And then he finds a role model. **

**Let me know what you think so far, review please.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N.: Stay hydrated, it's good for you. Or, you know, if you want to.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Bleach_.**

"So immediately after choosing their career, they're going to be taken to each specific workplace and get started right away?" Orihime asked, keeping pace with Ishida as they made their way toward the main exit. "Isn't that a little hasty?"

"Things have changed since we were in school," Ishida replied. "The faster we can get people working, the better."

"Times are getting busier, I see," she murmured, and then added, "It doesn't seem right. When I first started, I was at least given a few days to become accustomed."

He held one of the doors open for her. "These new recruits will have none of the luxuries you had. If we so happen to be assigned to a new case tomorrow night, then so be it."

"Don't say that." She held her hand out to feel for rain and then opened up her umbrella when droplets met her fingertips. "Are you sure you don't want me to go with you to meet the newcomers?"

"They won't need the both of us to be present. One of us is going to have to stay behind to supervise the others, and they do seem to prefer you over me." He stepped away, nodded in goodbye, and rounded the building to the garage for his car.

She tucked a loose strand behind her ear, and then turned back to the edge of the street to flag down a taxi.

~~...~~X~~...~~

"Hitsugaya-kun," was the first thing she said stepping into the office early the next morning. "A boy your age should still be sleeping at this hour."

He held up a mug of coffee as if it would excuse him. "I haven't slept past five hours since I was twelve."

He waved her hand away as she reached over to fix his hair. "You won't grow like this if you keep it up. Where is everyone else?"

"Agent Kurotsuchi is currently assisting at the labs," he replied, turning back to his desk. "She said she would be back as soon as she finished. Agent Ayasegawa is late, as always. Enforcer Sarugaki is—"

"Here," a sharp voice cut in, pulling their attention to the doorway where a girl with a ragged appearance stood munching on handfuls of chips. She wiped her mouth with her thin, thin wrist and leveled Hitsugaya with a look that could freeze over an entire body of water. "To grace you with my presence."

It was often said that Enforcer Sarugaki and Inspector Hitsugaya had a long running rivalry, tracing back to their days in the academy they both had attended. It only made sense, as both had been deemed prodigies and both had been recruited at early ages into law enforcement. While they had at one time showed signs of being on par with one another—perhaps unmatched by anyone else before them—it no longer seemed to be the case, as Hitsugaya Toshiro had climbed the ranks to an official Inspector and Sarugaki Hiyori had remained an Enforcer.

Being alone in the same room with them often made one uneasy, to say the least.

They were complete opposites. Hitsugaya was the picture of immaculate professionalism and Sarugaki hardly deigned to change out of her own sleepwear some days.

"How kind of you," Hitsugaya drawled, setting aside his now empty cup of coffee and turning his back on her. "You hadn't bothered to show up yesterday, I had almost been afraid you would not show today, either."

"Gotta get food on my table," was her only response before she turned her attention to Orihime. "Ishida said we might be getting fresh meat today. You taking them?"

Orihime shifted her bag to her other hand and continued on to her own desk. "Your own squad is already full, and only Hitsugaya-kun and myself are in mine. I'll be needing more manpower or I'll fall behind."

"I'm just hoping it's not anyone as irritating as the pipsqueak."

"We're the same height."

"Or as delusional."

"We'll just have to see," Orihime said patiently. "If we do get newcomers, Ishida will be bringing them right over and we'll have time to get to know them properly."

"Unless we get a new case."

"I _hope _we get a new case. Poor suckers won't know what's coming."

~~...~~X~~...~~

"Reports are done. Filing's done. I even separated the documents." Sarugaki slumped back into her chair and yawned deep into the palm of her hand. "What now? Do I reevaluate my life decisions or something?"

"Like that would help," Hitsugaya mumbled, head buried in his arms.

"The sun is setting," Nemu interjected. "Do you think Detective Ishida will be arriving soon?"

Orihime stood to stretch, turning to face the window overlooking the city. The skyscrapers had begun to reflect back a fiery orange. "I sure do hope so. But really, the day is almost done. We might end up leaving before him."

"Tell us a bedtime story, Detective," Sarugaki sighed, flinging her arms over her eyes.

"Are you joking?" Hitsugaya asked, incredulous.

"I could fucking shoot myself in the left foot, I'm so bored."

Orihime steepled her fingers. "Nothing really comes to mind."

"Anything, Detective. I'm losing my mind here."

"How about a romance?" Nemu suggested, pointblank.

"Anything but that."

With a nervous laugh, Orihime waved her hand in the air. "How about a little mystery? A long, long time ago—"

"—in a land far, far away," Sarugaki tossed in.

"—there were these creatures with bones for heads. They crept in the night and kept to the shadows, and any soul in the world could tell you they've felt their breath on their shoulder twice. But not a single person could say they'd ever seen them themselves. Except for one boy with fire in his eyes, who often warded them away with no more than a blade."

"What made him so special?" Sarugaki demanded, and Orihime was surprised she was listening at all.

"I don't know, it was a dream."

"Why does it look like you lot aren't working?" Ishida's voice cut in suddenly, and all eyes fell on him, standing at the entrance.

"Because that's exactly what we aren't doing," Sarugaki drawled, ankles crossed on her desk.

He sighed irritably and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I was _trying _to show our newcomer how hard working and dedicated our team was, but I guess you don't care enough—"

"_You want me to show you how much I care—_"

"Sarugaki-san, please," Orihime placated, stepping forward. "Newcomers, you say?" She peered over his shoulder, and was surprised to see a figure some spaces behind him, nearly indiscernible; she had not noticed them before.

Ishida stepped aside and waved his hand for them to enter. "Only one. He will be the newest addition to your squad, Detective."

The boy appeared as if almost from the shadows, the lights from the office slipping over him, and suddenly it was hard to believe she hadn't recognized him before. He seemed much taller in person, and, without his graduation robe marring his figure, much leaner as well. The scowl on his face was much deeper than it had been on screen.

"Kurosaki Ichigo."

A twinge of guilt overturned her insides, recalling all the snooping they had done, what they had—and _hadn't_, as Hitsugaya had complained—discovered about him. She felt as if she had intruded upon something she shouldn't have. She consciously folded her hands behind her and cracked a quick smile the boy did not return. "Why, hello there. I'm Detective Inoue—"

"He knows," Ishida interrupted, brushing past the boy to his desk. "I briefed him on the way here. All you need to do, as his superior, is show him the ropes and assign him a personal station on your half."

"Not one for formalities, huh, Detective?" Sarugaki snuffed, swinging her legs down and planting her feet flat on the ground. "I'm Sarugaki Hiyori." She jabbed her thumb back over her shoulder. "That's Kurotsuchi Nemu; quiet girl, you'll get along famously. And that," she waved her hand dismissively, "is Hitsugaya. Don't pay him any mind."

"_Both _your superior," Hitsugaya said, annoyed. "Don't forget that."

"A station will have to be reset for your personal use; it's only a general station at the moment," Orihime said apologetically, placing a hand briefly on Hitsugaya's shoulder in warning. "We'll have that taken care of by tomorrow. In the meantime, how about I show you how it works?"

Before she could take another step forward, however, a familiar alarm blared once, and then twice, and every single person in the room was on their feet. Kurosaki Ichigo, taken aback, faltered and drew further away in response.

"No time for that," Ishida said, hurrying past her; displeasure hung heavy on his words.

"What? What is it? What's going on?" Kurosaki Ichigo asked, hand snatching up Ishida's sleeve quickly and pulling him to a stop.

Orihime rushed forward to pry his hand away before Ishida could retaliate, blue eyes cold and angry. "A new case," Ishida explained curtly, straightening as Sarugaki clapped her hands and danced past him excitedly. He turned his attention to Orihime. "My squad and I will be heading out immediately. You can explain to the boy on the way."

She could _feel_ Kurosaki Ichigo fuming beside her, and was quick to nod in agreement. "We won't be long."

With that, Ishida swept out the room and down the hallway, Nemu close on his heels.

"What's up with that guy?" Kurosaki Ichigo demanded, stabbing his finger accusingly after Ishida.

"He's your boss, that's what," Hitsugaya said, tugging on his coat.

"What's with the shrimp?"

"Hey—"

"Kurosaki-san," Orihime asked, "do you have any idea how to shoot a gun?" She held his eyes, and when his mouth snapped shut, she added, chin high, "In this line of work, it is better to direct your questions to _what matters_. Detective Ishida's attitude is of no concern to you. You are an Enforcer, and your job is to _serve _and_ protect_. Take that to heart." She slipped past him and out the door. "My coat, please, Hitsugaya-kun. We have no time to waste anymore."

Behind her, two sets of feet clambered and hurried to catch up to her.

"Kind of a shame we got a new case, Detective," Hitsugaya said, handing over her coat when she reached back for it. She could hear the apology behind his words.

She tugged on the coat. "It can't be helped," she reassured.

She only hoped this would not affect Kurosaki Ichigo _too _terribly.

~~...~~X~~...~~

**A.N.****: Sorry this took so long. Work got a little too overwhelming. I'll try to get back on track now.**

**And yes! This does have influences from _Psycho Pass_, but this isn't based off of it. I only just watched that anime a couple weeks ago, and I've had this story in mind for months now. **


End file.
